Passing on the Message
by TheDevilYouDon't
Summary: "How is it confusing?" "It's confusing how much I want to kiss you." H/Hr. Post-DH. Mentions of H/G and R/Hr. M for safety.


**I wrote this because I figured it was high time for Hermione and Harry to discuss everything that's happened over the years. It's set just after DH, and, since I haven't read that book in forever (and don't really have a desire to) you're just gonna have to bear with me.**

_Passing on the Message_

The end of Voldemort was a few days in the past, the defeat of evil and the beginning of an unknown future. The Order took up temporary residence in either Grimmauld Place or the Burrow. Beds ended up getting thrown aimlessly wherever room could be spared—as it turned out, more people wanted to stay in the Burrow than in Grimmauld place. Ron had offered Harry a share of his bedroom and Hermione automatically set up shop with Ginny. A general feeling of a time-out started as well as readjustment as they all spent their increasingly long days alone, thinking of the past, or in groups, talking of it; just outside the house or in various rooms.

The Weasleys spent more and more time as a family, sometimes talking of how they'd never be able to move on without their missing son, brother, twin, at their side. This left more and more time with Harry, as, feeling the one at fault he never pulled into their conversations. They still blamed him, a sly voice in his head told him quietly. And he believed it.

On one of the nights that the Weasleys had taken up residence at their dining room table, silently sipping tea and looking forlornly at one another, Harry lay on his makeshift bed in Ron's darkened room, the windows open and the curtains ruffling in the breeze, the sound of crickets in the yard. He sighed when he heard a soft knock on the door, choosing to ignore it the moment it sounded. But, when they knocked again, he got up to answer it.

"Who is it?" he called through the door with a second sigh. It was late and he would be worried about such a late night calling, but eventless seemed to be the theme of the last few days.

"Hey, Harry. It's Hermione. Can I come in?" Hermione knew she hadn't woken him—the knock on the door had been too soft. Her biggest hope now was that he wouldn't be angry at being disturbed.

Harry, still clothed in a t-shirt and jeans decided he was decent enough to open the door and did so quickly, a little curious as to why she would want to see him so late. Her strange request set into motion several years of habit, so, instead of opening the door he chose the subtle reply of, "If you can, that is."

Hermione laughed at this and opened the door, ducking into the room. She noticed right away that the lights were off, giving the room a sort of ethereal glow from the light of the moon shining in the open windows. "You should use more caution," she told him slyly. "I might have been a death eater."

Harry shrugged at her and stood by the wall as she shut the door. "I'm a little tired for a fight, I think. Maybe, if you wanted to be friends instead of enemies, I'd be alright with hanging out."

"Harry." Hermione shook her head and made a face. "Even tired, you could beat any death eater you wanted to. Even if it were me. _Especially _if it were me."

"Why? To afraid to fight your best pal, Granger?" Harry teased. "You'd be a pretty great death eater, you know. Far too clever for me to defeat."

Hermione groaned. "Maybe, had I registered earlier. There are so few death eaters left—all of them on the run, mind you—it wouldn't be as much fun."

Harry raised his eyebrows at this reply. "You've thought about it, then?" She shrugged with a smirk and he shook his head at her. "I've met a lot of death eaters, 'Mione. You'd still have fun, on the run or not. Trust me."

"Perhaps…Why are we talking about this?" This wasn't exactly going to plan at all.

"I don't know. You came here. Why _are _you here? Is something wrong?" Harry's eyes traveled over her attire. A t-shirt and shorts kind of fit because of the summer heat, but that seemed to be all that she was wearing. There were no shoes on her socked feet and there was a small bag in her hand.

"No, nothing's wrong," she assured him. "It's just that…you've been alone lately, which I get. But with everyone in pairs and groups all over the house, you might be lonely—even if Ron has been staying in here with you. Besides, the Weasleys were sitting at the kitchen table last time I saw them and they didn't seem like they would be getting up anytime soon." She paused and swallowed, organizing her thoughts. "I thought, maybe, I could…stay here tonight?" She held her breath and watched his face for a reaction.

To be completely honest, she was a little worried about him spending so much of his time alone, even if it made sense for him to feel alienated after all that had happened—willing to cut himself off once more. And, of course, there was all that they'd never actually discussed; the stuff that had changed when the fighting stopped for good. She hoped that maybe, if she simply tried, they had one last chance to reconnect before their lives took off into the sunset.

"You spend the night here? With me?" Harry smirked curiously and leaned against the doorframe, his eyebrows raised as he dared her to clarify.

Hermione frowned at him in mock disapproval. "No, Harry…Not like that. I just thought that we could, you know…well, not _sleep_ together. I know I didn't wake you up. It's just that I have problems sleeping too and with everyone else being…they'll be up all night again. We could just talk…Or not."

He took a moment to think over how he was feeling, noting that a lot of his tension had left since Hermione had come in. He decided that most of this had been because the mood had been so light since her arrival and vowed to continue this for sanity's sake. "I don't know," he said with an eyebrow twitch. "You _are _a girl." He smirked and crossed to the bed, lying back down on top of the covers. "What will the others say?"

Hermione smiled and took this as a green light, dropping her bag on the floor by the door. "Well, we'll just have to let them gossip, I think. I promise to restrain myself as much as possible and try my hardest to behave, though."

"And here I am still not knowing if you're a death eater or not," he pointed out. "A vast number of them would be rather interested in spending the night with me too, if only to off me in my sleep."

Hermione shook her head, a little surprised at his mood. She had been expecting to find him brooding in the dark, prepared to have to pull him back from battle and death laden thoughts. This was all unexpected. Welcome, of course. But unexpected, nonetheless. So, she decided to play along. "Hey, since _you're _the Chosen One, do you want to check for the dark mark?" she asked, holding out her left arm for him to expect.

"No." He turned his head and smiled at her. "I think I'll stay in the suspense for now."

Hermione's face held a puzzled expression as she said, "I got here just in time. Your mind is wandering a little in an odd direction tonight."

"I've had some time to let it go, you know," he confirmed, turning his eyes back up to the ceiling. "I was in here trying not to think of anything at all when you showed up."

"It's perfectly acceptable," she told him. "I like the mood. I was a little worried, I'll admit, with the darkened room and everything. I thought there would be some Snape-worthy skulking going on." She winced as the ex-professor's name slipped past her lips without any real preparation, but brushed it off in the attempt to keep the mood light.

"Actually, no. I'm doing alright. Not really sure _what _to think yet, actually."

"I get that." Hermione turned on her side, resting her head on her hand and watching him. "So how _are _you feeling? A lot happened, whether you say you're doing fine or not."

He looked at her with a questioning gaze in his eyes, shrugging. "I'm alright, like I sad. Sore and tired, I guess, but it could be worse."

She smiled at him. "That's good."

Harry returned her smile before looking back up at the ceiling. A comfortable silence surrounded them, each letting their minds drift into the memories of fear and terror that had filled the past few months. Then, an unrelated thought drifted into his mind. "Hey, 'Mione?"

"Yeah?" She blinked a few times and pulled herself back into the present.

"How's everything with…" He drifted off and paused for a moment to collect his thoughts into proper sentences. "How've things been with Ron?" He didn't want to think about the past right now, not yet. And, he just wanted to be alone to think of nothing again or continue the conversation in a different direction.

"Huh?" Harry never asked about Ron. In fact, she wasn't sure any of them had properly discussed the sudden change of their relationship at all. "Um…okay. He needs his family more than anything right now."

"So, you didn't have a row then?" He thought that, maybe, that was why she'd come to him in the first place.

She grinned, realizing what had sparked the thought of his question in the first place. "No, Harry. We didn't have a row."

"Okay." He seemed content to just leave it at that, but Hermione wasn't as willing. Ron was Harry's best mate, had been for seven years. Two of your best friends getting together in the midst of the battle that had killed you for a little while is something that can't _not_ be discussed.

"We've been drifting apart since before we began," she admits in a quiet voice. "He's trying to be such a leader, his own hero, trying to fix everyone who's been broken. I'm proud that he's trying to become his own person, but I can't help but think, you know…been there, done that. I mean, we grew up with _the_ legend. I'm just tired of it all, now."

Harry rolled his eyes at her words. "I'm not a legend, Hermione. I get the tired thing, though, and return it heartily. What's this mean for you two?"

She was relieved to hear that his voice held no contempt or judgment. It was an honest question, really. "I don't really know. I think most of it was just…fear and passion and hormones. It's not _love_ love. I know that much. We'll go our separate ways sooner rather than later." She paused for a moment. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

"That makes some sense." He smiled again. "You were wonderful, you know. At the end. Amazing, really."

"You too. Spectacular." She bit her lip. "I was anxious about it…when it started. Of course, I just blame you."

He turned to her quickly, feigning shock. "Why would you blame _me_?"

"You and you're self-righteous, 'I must defeat the Dark Lord on my own.' You had me worried you wouldn't come back. So, I blame you."

Harry shook his head at her and laid back down. "You didn't give up faith in me, though. No reason to blame little, old me. I think, over the years your logic is beginning to go. It's no longer based on earth logic."

Hermione chose not to argue since he had, in fact, pulled everything off without a hitch. "You're correct. My logic is much more advanced. Ron, however, has us both beat in that arena."

"I think you're right in that fact," Harry joked with a laugh, the smile slipping from his face when his mind went back over their losses. "How're they doing, by the way?"

"They're grieving," Hermione succinctly responded. "And you? How are _you _doing?"

He closed his eyes. "You sure you want to ask that?"

"I really do." She pretty much had everything figured out already, but she really just needed him to talk about it with someone who cared.

"I miss them...All of them," he admitted. "It even hurts. Badly." His eyes drifted closed again.

"I know." She wasn't so sure that she had anything else to say.

"Yeah."

It was silent for another moment before her mind drifted off into the same place his had earlier. "How are you and Ginny doing?" she asked.

He opened his eyes. "Alright." He frowned for a second, lost in thought. "She told me she's in love with me the other day."

"And you're not in love with her?" She'd been so sure that it was a mutual thing.

"No," he told her quietly, turning to look at her. "It's never been _love _love."

Hermione thought that, maybe, she finally understood what had started Ginny up in the first place; loneliness and comfort. "Is she a good kisser, though? Cause if she is, then maybe it was worth it, after all."

Harry flushed and raised his eyebrows at her. "I cannot believe you just said that. That's it. You _are_ a death eater. The Hermione I know isn't bold like that."

She smirked, thoroughly enjoying that she'd shocked him. Being in a relationship that wasn't true love had helped her grow up a little bit more. And, she thought she understood some of his choices better. "Nope. Still no dark mark. Feel free to check at any time of the night."

"Why are you questioning me and Ginny anyway? Is there some sort of jealousy I'm not picking up?" He turned it back around, wondering if he was seeing it in a completely different light.

"Hold on." She sat up and leaned her back against the headboard. "We're no longer at teasing. You might not want to go there," she warned, more worried for herself than for him.

He shrugged. "Sorry…It's just…I've finally realized something." He didn't really see her panic. His mind was far too busy putting everything together.

"What?" she asked, worry evident on her face despite the fact that he wasn't looking hard enough to see it.

"You're a girl." He blinked, surprise in his eyes when they turned to hers.

Hermione sat in stunned silence for a moment, staring down at her friend. After a moment, she chuckled in relief that her fear had gone unnoticed. "You're just now realizing this, Harry?"

"I know, I know…but I can explain," he said quickly, knowing that he needed to clarify. "With all that's happened over the years, I just always…overlooked it. Like I just thought of you as Hermione. You weren't a girl or a witch or anything with me other than my best friend. I just saw you. And I wasn't really thinking about it until now. Well, I've thought about it maybe once or twice, but it stuck this time. You're a girl." He grinned, triumphant evident on his face.

Hermione groaned and laid back down, covering her face with her hands. She couldn't believe that she was having a gender identification conversation with Harry of all people. Taking a deep breath, she turned on her side and faced him and his realization. "Yes, I'm a girl. I'm attracted to men, grow my hair longer than yours—hopefully—, and occasionally wear makeup. You know, Ron caught on much quicker than this."

"It's never really been an issue with me."

"So, now that we're on the same page, are you okay?"

Harry laughed at his own expense. "Yeah, I'm fine." He turned to her, noting her thoughtful look with a mischievous grin on his face. "Of course, now, there's a woman in my room…lying on my bed…and she's still possibly a death eater."

Her expression grew puzzled, even if her smile stayed in place. "Harry, what is it with you and death eaters?"

"What is it with you and men?"

"I just don't want you disappointed if it turns out that I'm not a death eater."

He smiled a little and shook his head. They settled again into a comfortable silence. "Hey, Hermione?" His mind was running, skimming briefly over moments over the past years.

"Yeah?" She turned to face him once again, feeling by his tone that whatever followed would be more serious.

"I've done okay, right? With all the saving?"

Her face softened instantly and she whispered, "You've done amazingly and incredibly…impossibly, even," as she grasped his hand and squeezed it.

He squeezed her hand back. "Would've been impossibly without you guys, though. It's good to have you with me, you know." He ducked his head a little, embarrassed at this admission and looked down at Ron's Chudley Cannons bedspread.

She felt a small wave of relief and joy fill her chest as she scooted closer and kept her grip on his hand. "Hey, I love you, you know. You were worth the difficulties," she admitted. "I'm glad I stuck with you. But, still, I'm glad that it's over now."

"It _is _over, isn't it?" He shook his head a little in wonder. "I'm pretty sure that the wizarding world has been saved for the most part." He closed his eyes and relaxed in the moment.

Hermione smile in response and, without thinking about it, started to run her fingers through his hair as she sat back against the headboard and looked down at him. She listened to the faint sounds of the night as her eyes caressed him, her fingers drifting lazily through his permanently messy hair. She let herself wander into the hidden desires department of her mind—the part that she'd hidden away for so long—before she drew back out for a while. "You tired?" she asked, needing to get rid of the moment before she acted out in a somewhat insane and rash way.

"Not really." He stretched a little and relaxed again into a loose slouch on his side, his hand still covering hers. "Why? Are you?"

"Not at all." She pulled her hand back from his hair and curved it so that she could rest it on his shoulder. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she attempted to steady her emotions again. Opening her eyes a moment later, she found herself gazing directly into his green ones.

Harry locked their gazes, a small smile remaining on his face. He looked at her warmly at her and recognized a somewhat heated look in her brown eyes. Her breathing had stopped and his heartbeat sped up a little involuntarily. For a moment, he thought of asking if this was desire he was seeing in her eyes, but thought better of it. Instead, he rolled onto his back and tucked the question away for a later date.

When he turned away, Hermione could breathe again and was grateful that he seemed so ready to let the question drop for the moment. She tried to pull her hand away from his, then, thinking that he might need some space, and was surprised when he wouldn't allow it to slip away.

He was busy retracing some of his memories, pausing to think of the summer when they'd been just a floor away from each other as they slept in Sirius's house. They used to be close, connected. They used to share everything that was happening in their lives like good best friends. Then, towards the end, their relationship had started to loosen, especially when Ron and Ginny had started to step towards them in a whole different way than before.

"You know what my favorite battle was?" he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"Huh? Uh…no…?" Even if she was grateful for the sudden turn, she was anxious about his reply. She hadn't known that he _had_ a favorite battle. As for her, she viewed almost all of them with contempt and regretful fear.

"At the end of our fifth year. In the Ministry? I felt so connected to everyone there, like I could touch our power, our link. Like, for a little while, I could do anything I wanted to because you were all with me." He smiled as the meanings behind the moments of his past focused a little clearer in his mind.

Hermione smiled at his comfort. "I don't really remember that night, much, unfortunately." She paused. "I remember some of it, towards the beginning. I remember that I could feel _your _strength, your confidence, like it was around me. I've been trying to get that feeling back since." He looked at her guiltily and she squeezed his hand in reassurance. "Don't feel bad about it, Harry. It was like…taking a bite of a forbidden fruit. Besides, it didn't last all that long, remember? I was cursed after that and knocked out for the rest of it."

He watched her carefully as her face contorted in concentration. "Hermione?"

Her focus snapped back to the present. "What? Oh…sorry. It's just, the world is…making s-sense and…pieces are falling into place."

"You should explain that. You lost me at, 'It's just.'"

She smiled, but her expression was still one of curiosity. "Do you feel like you're still part of him, Harry? Despite the fact that he's gone, I mean."

"I guess…" he said quietly after a moment of thought. "It's still kind of strong, but…like it's not as separated from the rest of me anymore. Like it's mixing in with the rest of me. That's why I've been cut off from everyone for the past few days. I've been a little busy feeling it all…blend together." He turned to see her reaction and couldn't stop the smile that made its way onto his face. "'Mione, you have that look in your eye…like you wanna go research what I'm feeling."

"No…it's just…" She trailed off. "It's just…weird."

"Yeah," he agreed, marveling at how easy it felt to share all of this with her. "Before, I _always _felt alone and felt like I deserved it, too. No matter how much I wanted to connect with everybody. It was like a big wall in front of me, but…it disappeared. It's gone now and…_now_, I'm just hoping I have anyone left to connect with." He was suddenly grateful that Hermione had come to Ron's room, despite the fear that resided at how she might respond to this.

"Oh, Harry, you do…You really, really, really do. Even through everything and all that's…been s-said, I just…If you can deal with it all…I'd like to…just forgive me for…I want, more than anything." Her words were tangling in the rush to have every thought in her head be heard.

His smile reached his eyes and, as relief flowed through his veins, he reacted without thinking. He rolled onto her and gripped her in a hug, so that he was resting just over her. Hermione's initial shock wore off eventually and she wrapped her arms around him, one hand trailing into his hair like it had a mind of its own. He pulled up a little a few minutes later, suddenly embarrassed about his actions. "Sorry. Just…relief and everything."

She tried to meet his eyes, but they looked everywhere in the room but at her. Her arms drew back and she rested one hand on his chest, thumb stroking it through his shirt. "Harry, it's fine," she whispered, a little _too_ breathlessly. His head rose and he looked at her, his blush receding a little.

Wondering again about the look in her eyes, Harry chose to say nothing once again. He was still slightly unnerved at his sudden hug and took a deep breath before shifting off of her and back onto his back, instantly missing the feel of her beneath him.

The silence that followed was a little too much for her, so she dropped her hands and folded them on her abdomen, cursing her hormones. "So, have you thought about the future? Like…what you're going to do now?"

"A little. This is going to sound mad, but I was thinking of becoming an…auror," he said in a nervous voice. "I could be good at that. And, you know…still trying to make the world a better place."

Hermione turned her head and smiled at him. "That's a really great idea." Her enthusiasm hung in the air while her mind was a little busy picturing it.

An idea rushed into his head then, one he was surprised about having. "We should celebrate. If you're up for it, go to London. Maybe alcohol, if you're not beneath it. We could go tomorrow…bring Ginny and Ron, if you want."

"And you're okay with the awful headache we'll all have the next morning?"

"I've had worse injuries. So have you, as a matter of fact." It had sounded slightly insane in his head, but now that Hermione was in on it, it was starting to make more and more sense. A life of care-free recklessness; certainly something he could get used to.

Hermione looked his way to see if he was serous. Seeing that he was, she rolled her eyes and caved. "Alright, I suppose I'm in. _You're _gonna be the one to pitch the idea to the other two, though."

"Great." He beamed at her. "And, while we're out, we could tell Ginny all about that time last year when Ron took Romilda Vane's love potion candy and ate it. Lighten the mood a little. Besides, I love that story."

Hermione laughed. "Sure. But it was meant for you, remember?"

"How could I forget something like that?" he asked with a chuckled. "I'm just glad that Ron ate it first, dire circumstances following or not. I'm not sure I'd be able to live with myself if I had to live with the memory of begging Romilda to undress me."

She nodded. "Exactly. Had it been me, I wouldn't have been able to turn you down." The words left her mouth before she could stop them and belatedly covered her mouth with her hand.

He looked her way, eyebrows raised over his wide eyes. In his shock, he was suddenly tempered by the things he'd been noticing all night. "Hermione—?"

"Don't, Harry," she interrupted, her voice mixed with warnings and pleadings.

"I have to know now. Do you…think of me…in _that _way?" he asked softly and slowly, trying not to scare her into silence or leaving.

'What way?" she stalled, refusing to look at him as she picked at Ron's bedspread.

He turned on his side and propped himself up on one elbow, resting to urge to reach out and turn her face so that she was looking at him. "You know what way, 'Mione. In the…girl way that I finally caught onto tonight?"

She stilled her hand and took a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she laid on her back, trying to decide how to answer. She could hear the crickets just outside and the room was dark and warm, a scented and cool breeze occasionally coming in through the window and making the curtains drift in the air. All in all, the night was a perfect one in which to tell the truth. Finally. Smiling as a secret she held so close for so long was about to come out, she said, "Yes…sometimes, I do."

"Really?" His tone was of someone feeling both excitement and puzzlement, mild surprise on his face as he smiled a little.

She looked up at him and smiled a little in spite of herself. "Yes, really." She laughed a little. "It's not as bad as Ginny's constant run-on fantasy, but, yes, sometimes."

"Really?" he softly repeated, hoping that she would go on.

"I haven't broken you, have I?" She reached up and pressed a hand to his forehead, as though checking his temperature. "Why are you so surprised?"

"I just never…noticed," he admitted. "Until little things tonight, that is. Which is funny, considering that I've…thought about it."

"You've thought about it too?" It was her turn to sound surprised as she drew her hand away.

"Well, I mean, out of curiosity, yeah. Before—I mean…" He stopped the rush to explain and, taking a deep breath, continued. "Before, when we were alone after Ron left, we got really close for a while. Then he came back and I wondered sometimes what it might be like. Just in a curious way. Not in a complete and total fantasy kind of way."

"Oh." She smiled mischievously at him. "Well, a complete and total fantasy would have been alright too, you know."

"Hermione!" His face flushed again while she just laughed at how easy this was and how freeing it felt to have the secret out for good. "How long?" he asked, bring her mind back to their conversation.

She groaned and closed her eyes. He just _had _to ask that. "I don't know. Since sometime fourth year, if I look back on it. Though that was a time of many confusing feelings and I didn't even admit some of them to myself for a while. It's just that…well, sometimes you're…kind of attractive. I would have to be blind not to have noticed that. And, of course, noticing led to thoughts and…then this past year, when Ron was gone and we were alone…" She stopped herself, suddenly realizing that the ramble was going in a place she didn't wish to travel.

"Thoughts and feelings went crazy?" he finished for her.

Her eyes snapped open. "You sure you want to know this?"

"No…well, yeah…It's just…a little confusing is all," he told her, unsure of how he was feeling at the moment. With sudden focus, he noticed that they had very little space between them, even if they weren't touching directly. His mind went back to how she'd felt underneath him when he'd hugged her earlier, how his body had felt as it covered hers, her hands touching him through his shirt.

"How is it confusing?"

He looked into her eyes seriously. "It's confusing how much I want to kiss you."

"What?" She blinked, sure that her hearing must have been going.

"It's confusing how much I want to kiss you."

"No, I heard that part…it's just…" She took a breath and tried to calm her pounding heart and racing pulse. "I was just…sure I'd heard you wrong."

"Everything's just coming together in this big blur and I just…really want…I lied before." He smirked a little and tilted his head. "There was _one_ complete and total fantasy." The confusion was rapidly disappearing the more he thought it through, but desire was quickly replacing it.

"So, it's just curiosity, then," she countered, her own rush of sweet thoughts pulsing with the reality and limitations of his proposal.

"Kind of…not really." He closed his eyes and tried to think of the right way to say what he was thinking. When he opened them, he found Hermione's eyes and held them, trying to make her understand what he was thinking. "Sure, there's some curiosity, which is the confusing part. But, mostly, there's you and me and all that's happened and…relief because we survived. We made it. There's still an _us._ And, with the way you've been looking at me tonight…and the way I've been feeling for a while, now…it's more than a hug can convey."

"It's just…what do you want out of _us_. One kiss? The night? Becoming a permanent _us_? That's what we need right now; one more complication." She's trying so hard to sort it out and make it clearer. But, she's wanted Harry off and on for so long, that her resolve is starting to break down.

"I'm not completely sure. You did hear that it's confusing, didn't you?" he asked nervously. "A kiss—definitely. Beyond that, a night, of course, and can we just go from there? There's always been complications between us."

"We probably shouldn't," she managed to whisper, but she was shifting closer and closer to him, eyes lost in his gaze.

"Hermione, can I kiss you?" he asked, reaching out to stroke some of her hair from her face as he leaned closer. At her answering nod, he bent forward and lightly touched his lips to her. Closing his eyes, he continued the kiss, becoming a little more firm before pulling away and looking at her.

Hermione had closed her eyes at the moment of contact, kissing him harder when he started to pull back. She kept her body still, let him set the pace, because it might just be one kiss, and she knew that it would be a bad idea to let the desire out just yet. But, she'd wanted this for years. Maybe, though, he wasn't so sure. When the kiss ended—when heaven was put on pause—she opened her eyes and recognized her own desire in Harry's eyes. And, as he leaned forward again, she finally let herself go—bring her hands up and tangling her fingers into his hair and pulling his lips tightly against her own.

All of the air rushed from their lungs as perfection took its place. This time, the kiss was longer, lingering. Hermione's tongue traced his lips and he opened them to it, meeting it with his own. Pushing forward, he rolled them until she was on her back and he was braced above her. When they could hold their breath no longer, he pulled back and smiled. "Wow."

"Yeah." She smiled up at him in return, one of her hands moving to his chest and caressing the fabric of his t-shirt for the second time that night. This time, she didn't look away, didn't hide the desire in her eyes.

He shifted his weight onto one arm and ran his fingers down her cheek, across her jaw, and down her neck, pausing at the pulse-point. "Your heart is racing," he whispered.

"So is yours," she answered with a laugh, pressing her palm so that it covered his heart. "You're not disappointed, then?"

He smiled slowly. "Definitely, not. Better than I ever could have imagined it being."

"What's going to happen when we get really drunk tomorrow?" she challenged playfully.

"More surprises, if you're lucky." Enjoying the stunned look on her face, Harry dropped his head back down and started another kiss, letting his other arm go back to carry some of his suspended weight. Her knees bent and gripped his hips and her hand dipped under his shirt to stroke the bare skin of his chest.

Harry moved his lips along her jaw, down her neck and back up to her ear. The hand not under his shirt went back into his hair. He shifted his weight back onto one arm and stroked her down her neck until he could cup her breast through her shirt, thumb rubbing in circles.

"Oh," she whispered, eyes fluttering closed.

"Hermione," he half-growled with growing need as he rolled back onto his knees and started to pull her shirt over her head. She lay back down as he dropped her shirt to the floor, pausing to let the sight set in. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, covering her with his own body again.

He returned his lips to hers, the kiss urgent and never-ending. Their hands caressed and explored. They grew lost in the sensations as the kisses blended, one into the other, only pausing for desperately needed breaths and the frantic removal of the rest of their clothing.

The rest of the night was spent like that, their energy never depleting, even after that first painful moment—in which Hermione made him pause, eyes closing in pain, and he kissed her eyelids, nose, and forehead until the pain faded.

When they were finally spent, their kisses continued still, less urgent, but just as passionate. They tangled their bodies together until, finally, they sopped. In the darkened room, to the sound of the crickets outside the open windows and muffled voices from floors below, they held each other as they fell asleep.

They had, at least, tonight and, maybe, the rest of their lives.

**There we go. It's finished. Gee. Look at that. It only took...three hours. Gosh. Wow. I'm tired. 0_0**

**Tell me what you thought.**


End file.
